How to become a literary, a luminary, to know and feel a sparkling flash of purpose and sense of self? In college, I dreamt of becoming a big city fish. In New York, I'm finding that everyone's a piranha.

Friday, February 29, 2008

Contrarian

Things I (am marginally ashamed I) never liked:

Rent: the musical, the soundtrack or the idea

Red Bull and vodka, together or separate

Lipstick, espadrilles, massages that include the limbs (stay on the back! stay on the back! I don't need you to rub my elbow!)

Pets without fur (lizards, birds, fish--they belong in the wild and not in your bedroom)

Photo Ops (must I close my eyes and open my mouth in every single shot?)

Sample sales (the excess of consumerism meets someone else who grabs the bag I wanted)

Talking about sex with any of the following: parents, friends who I would never want to see naked, friends who I have seen naked, friends who I want to see naked

Chick Flicks (except for the following: How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Bridget Jones's Diary)

Grrrl bands, sing-a-longs without a karaoke machine, when people insist on seeing "who's taller" and make you line up against them and then stand really tall and you always lose (am I alone on this one?)

Links

About Me

Barely the definition of an adult, I'm trying to navigate through the city, the scenesters, the lackies, the lonely, and wondering if
I'll ever fit in.
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Email me (opportunities, inquiries, compliments and constructive criticism always welcome...)